The Disney Games
by AspiringWriterGirl
Summary: Cast back to years before Miss Katniss Everdeen entered the games, to a time where there were thirteenth district, when our beloved Disney characters found themselves in the 46th Hunger Games may the odds be ever in their favour
1. The Reaping - District 1-4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: So I'm joining the leagues of other writers and doing my own Disney meets Hunger Games story, now let's introduce our much beloved characters Don't forget to review what you think of our tributes of district 1-4!

Oh, and any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human,

**Chapter 01**

District 1

Jasmine sat on her bed and contemplated the upcoming Hunger Games, the 46th. For years, since she can remember, she had been taught how to defend herself in combat and to know her way around a series of weapons.

If her father, Sultan, hadn't inherited this wealthy estate in the centre of the Capitol, then Jasmine would not have had much training. Nor would she be able to defend herself in the arena.

Part of her couldn't wait for the reaping, it was this time that she felt compelled to volunteer. It was what some careers, the residents from district one and two did.

"Jasmine, come on now, the reaping is today and I need to talk to you," Sultan called out to her from the bottom of the stairs. "Jasmine!"

The additional call of her name prompted the tanned girl and she threw herself down the stairs towards Sultan as fast as her feet would allow.

"Father, you don't need to worry. I will be fine, and I promise that I won't volunteer." This was something that Jasmine had repeated annually, if only she really meant it this time. She watched her father let out a sigh of relief. "I have to go now, and join the others."

"I hope to the high power above us, that you are not picked. It'll be one less year to have to worry about you. I hope that you are able to live your life, just as I and your mother did. The Games are not worth it, I'd rather you survived without being picked."

Deep down, Jasmine felt her stomach twist, as if to say, you shouldn't do this. Your life is far more valuable. She stepped outside and was pushed into the hoards of valiant and strong looking children, some older and younger than her.

"This is it," she muttered to herself, looking up to the sky. It was a little dark, with grey clouds hanging about. The closer she got to the check in desks where her blood would be taken, the more agitated she became. Jasmine was beginning to have second doubts. "No, I need to do this."

After four years of practice, the blood sample extraction was nothing to Jasmine. She could barely feel it, but she definitely felt the watchful eye of the peacekeepers. By the time the girls had been packed into their half, Jasmine felt there was no worry in the air. No one seemed scared.

Jasmine watched as Charlotte trotted out of the doors and onto the platform. She was wearing a pink dress which the skirt ballooned out almost a metre around her. Jasmine only wished that she could look as glamorous as Charlotte did right now.

As Charlotte began to introduce herself, Jasmine's thought track began to disappear, she thought about the Capitol, the interviews and the training. When she finally came back to reality she heard the girl's name get called out.

"I- I volunteer!" Jasmine bravely raised her hand to the air.

"But she is the tribute, she can't volunteer," Jasmine heard a girl standing behind her mutter which made her feel like a fool.

"Come on, up here." Charlotte beckoned the female tribute up onto the stairs. "You look like you were prepared to volunteer, even if it was your own name."

"I was willing to do it." Jasmine turned towards the crowds of children. "To do it for district one!"

Rather than cheers for Jasmine's proud exclamation, it was met with quiet murmurs of concern. They must have thought that she was weak and a girly girl, but what did they know?

"And, and our male tribute is… Achmed." Charlotte scanned the crowds and knew exactly who he was when everyone turned to face the boy from the richest family in district one.

He won't have troubles getting sponsors. Maybe I should stick by him, Jasmine thought to herself.

"Go on, shake hands then." Charlotte grinned, nodding her head enthusiastically before squealing as the two tributes from district one shook hands.

District two

Earlier, as the sun began to rise, Meg watched the peacekeepers as they set about preparing the reaping stage. The glass bowls arrived containing all of the names and she thought about the single slip that had her name being somewhere in it.

"Only this year and next year, then I'm out of the woods," she whispered to herself.

"Yeah, but can you imagine what it must be like to participate."

Meg turned to see a boy she hadn't seen before looking down at her.

"Sorry, I'm Hercules." He held out his hand to her.

With much hesitation, she took his hand. "How many more years will you experience a reaping?"

"Just this one, the last one. I'm hoping for my mother and father, that I survive this last one."

"Well, I hope you get what you want." Meg stood up, feeling a little uncomfortable by the enthusiasm and honesty that Hercules had shown her.

Meg had grown up completely isolated from other residents of district two, she felt like she just didn't fit in there. Everyone chose such vibrant clothing which were from the Capitol, Meg didn't like them at all.

She went and sat down by the fountain, she watched the water trickle out over the spouts. A stone dolphin that was soaring up over the fountain reminded Meg that, if she was chosen in the reaping, that she would have to be intelligent and have her wits about her.

"You there, you should be at the reaping now. Quickly, the last thing you want is to hold up this magnificent process," a peacekeeper said, looming over her, she noticed his hand reach for his baton and she stood up straight away.

Meg stood towards the back of the district two girls, hopefully she wouldn't get picked because, the last thing she wanted was to have her name called out and have to walk that distance. The only positive she could think about was the fact that it would give her the opportunity to get away from Hades.

Aphrodite stepped up to the speaker. "Greetings district two! It is that special time where we must put forwards two tributes to represent us in the annual Hunger Games, the 46th Hunger Game. So without any further ado, let us pick our girl."

Meg watched as the woman whose waist looked non-existent walk over to the glass bowl that contained all the girl's names.

"Our tribute for district two is, Megara!" Aphrodite seemed so cheerful.

Meg could barely hide the grimace on her face as everyone stood to either side, producing a line for her to walk towards the stage. Once she reached the stage, she caught Hercules' gaze. He gave her an apologetic look.

"And our male tribute is, Hercules!"

Meg's eyes grew wide, _wow, it is not that guy's day. This was the last year that his name was in the pickings._ Meg thought to herself as she watched her fellow tribute take to the stage.

District three

The district responsible for electronics in Panem was somewhere that Claudia Bimbette and her two sisters, Laura and Paula, just did not fit into at all. Their father was an engineer who adored his doting girls, but only wished that they would show more of an interest in his work. Claudia, the oldest at eighteen, showed the most promise.

"Now girls, you remember that, whatever happens today, you can still win this if you are chosen," his father told his daughters whilst he fiddled about with a strange circuit board none of the girls understood.

"We know Daddy, besides. It's unlikely that either of us will be chosen today. We'll be home in time for dinner, whatever that is," Claudia pulled her sisters close before pushing them out the door. "Come on you two."

"Are you sure, Claudia?" Paula asked, tying her hair up in a loose ponytail with a green ribbon. "It's your final year."

"I know Paula, but, I'm sure we won't get picked. Remember how many years we've survived. I wonder what hat Mrs Potts will have today," Claudia replied.

"Oh my gosh, do you remember last years?" The girls broke out in high pitched giggles. "Come on, it's that horrible time where Laura nearly faints at the thought of the blood sample.

"Thanks for the reminder," Laura mumbled, her eyes closed and she clung to Claudia. "Needle." Laura shuddered once she saw the tables that the peacekeepers sat at.

Claudia watched in anticipation as her sisters blood was taken, and then it was her turn. All she could think about was the mark it would leave on her. The mark would hang about for days.

When she was in the crowds, she saw Gaston, the total hunk of district three smile at her. It made her giggle, holding her hand at her mouth and shrinking away as her shoulders shook.

"Well, if I get chosen, I hope to the gods above, that it is with Gaston."

"Wow, you don't give up. Besides, he likes the book worm. The inventor's daughter," Laura sighed.

"I'm an inventor's daughter-"

"But you're not a bookworm…"

Even whilst Laura and Claudia argued, Paula listened to Mrs Potts and her mouth dropped when she heard her sister's name.

"No!" Her yell suddenly caught her sister's attention. "Claudia, you're the tribute." Paula's chin quivered.

"I'll be- I'll be okay." Claudia turned to the stage slowly.

The peacekeepers grabbed her arms and pushed her roughly towards the stage. She whipped her arms away from their grip at the steps. Mrs Potts was not wearing a hat that was as funny. It was more like a teapot lid whereas, last year, it was like a fruit salad on top of her head.

"And our male tribute is, LeFou!"

"Oh boy," Claudia muttered to herself. I am dead, we don't stand a chance. This kid is like, fourteen. Claudia originally thought that if she was with Gaston, he would protect her.

District four

"Elsa! Come on, hurry up, we'll be late," Anna called up the stairs of the house they had shared since their parents died in a shipping accident. "Elsa!"

"I'm coming, I'm just sorting out my hair." Elsa appeared at the top of the stairs and Anna's mouth dropped open. It looked so simple, but so neat as it was pulled to the back of her head. "Now, you have to promise me, if your name is chosen, then you won't go. I will volunteer for you. But you mustn't volunteer for me. You mustn't!" Elsa pleaded, holding her sister's shoulders.

"Elsa, why not? Why can you volunteer because I can't?"

"Because I am more likely to survive than you are," Elsa replied bluntly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to seem so blunt. Please, promise me?"

"I promise." Anna crossed her fingers behind her back. "Come on, let's go and-" She was interrupted by a knock on the door. The peacekeeper had come to collect them.

The two sisters stuck together through the process. They giggled at Oaken as he stepped up to the microphone. He was the only male escort, apart from the robot the girls had heard about from district thirteen.

"Hallo." Oaken was a man of few words and, this was his usual introduction. "The girl. Is. Elsa!"

Anna waited a few moments, Elsa's hand left Anna's as she walked towards the stage. Anna couldn't take it anymore. Her sister's life was at stake. "I volunteer, I volunteer!"

"Oh, a volunteer." Oaken clapped his hands.

"Anna, no!" Elsa screamed as she was grabbed by numerous peacekeepers. "No! You promised me you wouldn't!" She struggled against the grips on her arms. "Please, she doesn't know what she's doing. You can do this to her!"

Anna thought she saw Elsa's breath in the cold but, this morning it seemed so warm. "Elsa, I have to do this."

"That's okay, now for the male. It's Kristoff."

Kristoff? Anna had never heard that name before. Hopefully he would be a good companion. She watched him step up towards her, unable to tell if he would be a good companion.

Before they were pushed away, Anna took one last look at Elsa who was almost on the floor in tears.

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = Oh, I've been waiting so long to write this chapter. And now it's published **


	2. The Reaping - District 5-9

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: So I'm joining the leagues of other writers and doing my own Disney meets Hunger Games story, now let's introduce our much beloved characters Don't forget to review what you think of our tributes of district 5-8! So that's four more districts!

Oh, and any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy

**Chapter 02**

District five

Mei was the middle daughter of the Emperor – the Emperor of the electrical distribution unit. She and her two sisters, Ting-Ting and Su, were like royalty in district five. It was normal for their father to arrange for them to marry a top geologist, or someone who could give his daughters whatever they deserve.

Mei sat in front of her dresser and stared back at her reflection in the mirror. She had contemplated running away – that way, there was no chance of her being reaped this year, and she wouldn't be forced into marrying some weedy looking man with thick rimmed glasses and a passion for rocks. Mei could not see what was so amazing about rocks.

"Mei – it's time to go now!" Ting-Ting called out to her sister.

"Yes, Ting-Ting…" Mei's head dropped, like she was admitting defeat. "Just another reaping day."

Ting-Ting was lucky enough to have had her last reaping last year – just before she turned eighteen, so Mei was incredibly jealous. Every time that Mei expressed this view, Ting-Ting would say that it was only because she had experienced more reapings.

"Su – come on!" Ting-Ting yelled.

At the foot of the stairs, the eldest daughter sorted out her younger sisters. Tucking loose strands of hair back into Su's ponytail, and readjusting Mei's sash.

"What are you two like? I wish you all the best, don't worry, everything will be just fine. Even in the miniscule chance that the one slip of paper that has your name on is chosen, then the amount of sponsors that you get will go through the roof because of Father's influence."

"Don't worry Ting-Ting," Su replied as the maid opened the door. "We'll see each other soon. Don't worry."

Mei and Su walked slowly in the direction of the other children within the ages of twelve and eighteen. The two girls stayed silent and couldn't bring themselves to say one single word to one another. This was the one day of the year where they were silent during the walk and the reaping process.

Mei had to look away when she saw the peacekeepers holding the needle. The stab of a needle made Mei whimper. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the blood leaking from her finger which was one of the things she hated – she couldn't stand the sight of blood.

Her sister grabbed her hand and pushed through the crowds to the front of the district five children. Normally they would stand by the front, near the stage, so to stick to tradition, that's where they stood.

The doors above them opened in a single, swift movement and the Matchmaker stepped out, wearing a large blue robe with a black sash tied around the waist and knotted to one side.

She stormed over to the microphone which buzzed from the sound system when she breathed heavily.

"It seems it is that time again, girls and boys. This is the reaping of the forty sixth annual hunger games. Without much further ado, we will carry on with the reaping. The girls… Our representative for district five, is… Mei Qin."

_That was my name. Oh no. Maybe I'll just wait a little while and see if anyone volunteers._ Mei thought to herself, hopeful that someone would save her day.

"Come on Miss Qin – I can see you right there. Come on up to the stage." Matchmaker waved her hand at Mei, beckoning the young girl over. "Our female tribute. Mei Qin."

The crowd's faces looked incredibly shocked and glanced amongst each other as if to say 'I'm not going to volunteer – I value my life a tiny bit more than the chance of marrying her.'

"And now for our male. Hmm… It seems there's a new boy on the block. Fa Ping – well he must be Fa Zhou's son." Matchmaker turned to face the Peacekeepers standing by the door. "I didn't know Fa Zhou had a son."

No one seemed to know who this Fa Ping was, but when someone stood up straight, tying their short hair into a bun, people knew that this was Ping.

"Come on boy, we haven't got all day now."

District six

Peter Pan sat atop the roof of the slow moving train, this was another day in the sixth district. He looked out over the vast expanse of the district and let out a deep sigh.

"What are we going to do?" he mumbled.

Living without any parents, Peter had managed to cope by himself and avoid being employed to work in the transportation sections as a baggage handler.

But today was the reaping day and fourteen year old Peter had a lot to deal with. As well as taking care of himself, he took care of the Lost Boys – the boys in District six that were like him and had no parents.

"How much further, Peter?" one of the twins asked, peering out of the window of the train and looking up at the older boy.

"Not far, at least I hope it's not too far. Maybe the train is just a little delayed a little." Peter lay back on the top of the train and looked up at the cloudy sky. "How I wish we weren't confined to a district…"

"Peter!" he heard a gentle voice call out to him. It was his closest friend, apart from the Lost Boys.

Looking to the left, Peter saw Tinkerbell running alongside the train on the gravelled platform.

"Tink!" Peter leapt off the train that beginning to slow down, he floated down and hit the ground beside Tinkerbell. "You prepared for the games?"

"Yeah," Tinkerbell replied, scuffing her shoe and disturbing the gravel a little. "But what about you? How many times are you in the reaping bowl now? It must be eleven or thirteen now, right?"

"Well, it was twelve, but then I just had to get the boys some grain to eat, so I put my name in again so that they wouldn't be in there multiple times…"

Tinkerbell gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Peter Pan! What happens if your name is actually chosen – how will the Lost Boys cope then?"

Peter folded his arms as the Lost Boys filed off the train. "Well, if I got chosen, then maybe you could just take over from me- right?"

"Well-" Tinkerbell hesitated and blinked rapidly. "But Peter… Isn't there a chance that…" She shook her head, forbidding herself from thinking of the worst. "But what if one of the Lost Boys gets chosen? Do you sacrifice yourself for them?"

"I have to," Peter replied, taking Tinkerbell's hands in his. "It's the twins' first year in the reaping bowl – I don't want them to feel like I've given up on them if they get chosen." With a gentle pull, Peter led his closest friend out of the station and towards the platform that they had watched be constructed over the past weeks in readiness for the Hunger Games.

"See you back here after the reaping, deal?" Tink held her hand out to Peter. "Promise?"

"Course!" he exclaimed cheerfully, hiding any doubt in her voice. "See you soon."

Tinkerbell watched Peter led the older Lost Boys that were old enough for the reaping towards their impending doom. She waved goodbye to Tootles who was a little too young to participate.

"Come on Tinkerbell, you've gotten through one year, it'll be just the same this year as it was last year," she mumbled to herself as the queue proceeded onwards.

Looking up to the front of the crowd, she could see Giselle. This woman was only a year or two older than the maximum age to participate in the Hunger Games, but she was one of the most beautiful people that Tinkerbell had ever seen. She had heard Peter and the Lost Boys practically swooning over her whenever they would all watch the Hunger Games in the Public House.

"Hello – hello. It seems like only yesterday I was here calling upon the last tributes, but seeing as the Hunger Games is an annual thing – here I am!" Giselle rambled on, much to the dislike of many of the girls and boys in the area.

Then Tinkerbell's mouth dropped when she heard the name of the female tribute – it was her own.

_I can do this – I have an advantage in the Games, I know I do. _

On her way to the stage, Tinkerbell caught the eye of Wendy Darling and frowned at her. Wendy seems to push her way in between Peter and Tinkerbell all the time. The smirk on Wendy's face made the tribute tempted to cause some violence, but she managed to refrain from it.

"And now that we have our female tribute, I would like to call out the male tribute. Who will it be this year?" Giselle wafted her hand over the reaping bowl before darting into the glass dish and rifling through the pile of names, unaware just how many times some children's names had gone into it. "I pick this one!" She whipped out one name and, behind my back, I was sure to cross my fingers that it was someone I could rely on and get on well with. "Pan Peter – oh silly me… Peter Pan!"

_You have got to be kidding me…_ Tinkerbell thought to herself. _But at least it means I won't be alone – I can have faith in my district companion. _

"Come on Mister Pan, let's meet our male tribute from district six."

Once Peter made it onto the stage, Giselle grabbed one of our hands and threw them up in the air.

"District six – I give you your tributes. Tink-ker-bell and Pee-ter!" she squealed in delight.

But the children watching us remained silent, not even saying a word – a lone coughed could be heard in the back of the crowd.

District seven

Pocahontas looked out over her home district from the top of the tree. She held onto its vast trunk and leant away from it, feeling the wind flow through her long and sleek hair.

Down in the valley, she could see the divide between the settlers and the tribespeople that her father governed. The tribespeople lived on the forest side of the district, whereas the settlers took over the dam side of the district, looking after the dam and all that technology.

"Pocahontas!"

She heard someone call out to her, and she instantly knew who it was. Jumping down from the tree, she crouched down on the floor.

"John," Pocahontas said, smiling. She looked at his chiselled chin and her hand began to trace his cheek. "Today is the day…"

"Reaping day – you know, we could always head for the hills. You and I. I and you." John put his hand up onto hers, moving his thumb over her fingers. "No one would ever have to know."

Before Pocahontas could reply, she heard Nakoma calling for her. "Sorry, you have to go – get out of here."

John disappeared, and moments later Nakoma crept up the hill, just seeing a settler striding away through the greenery. Shaking her head, Nakoma knew that Pocahontas was sort of cavorting with one of the male settlers. It was just wrong in Nakoma's eyes – there was a clear divide between the settlers and tribespeople in district seven, so why did Pocahontas insist on going behind her father's back to see this settler.

"Pocahontas – where have you been? Kocoum has been looking for you, you know…" Nakoma raised an eyebrow at her close friend. "And they're calling out for the tributes – to be honest with you, I don't want to be the absolute last girl to be signed in."

"Don't worry, Nakoma – I'll go after you. Then you won't be the last girl there."

Nakoma just had to ask what was on her mind. "Who were you talking to? You come up here all the time, but you never seem to be able to tell me much of a reason – you don't tell me one anyway."

"No one, Nakoma," Pocahontas sighed as they strode down the hill in a different direction to John. "Besides, it's only the reaping – they'll probably wait for us anyway. Can you imagine what would happen if one of our names were chosen, and we were late – or better still, we were running. Running miles from here."

"They would send the Peacekeepers after us, Pocahontas. You know that. Or your father would send his people as soon as he heard – there would be bloodshed and a rebellion on your hands. President Triton would never allow it."

By the time Nakoma and Pocahontas finally got to the reaping arena – arena wasn't quite the right word, but it's what it always felt like it was to the two girls. They soon realised that, seeing as all the boys of the district were present and accounted for, that the male tribute had already been chosen. Nakoma could see the boy standing on the platform beside Kida – the woman who had always come to choose the tributes from the reaping – she had done so for as long as Nakoma could remember.

"Nakoma is the female tribute from district seven," Kida said calmly into the microphone, knowing that once again she had doomed another child to the Hunger Games.

"Nakoma!" gasped Pocahontas, raising a hand to her mouth. "No!"

District eight

The textiles district – district eight, home to Cinderella, her stepmother Lady Tremaine and her two stepsister – Drizella and Anastasia. Despite being the textiles district, it was clear that Cinderella was the rags of the family. She was always constantly patching up her clothes with whatever scraps of materials she could find.

"Cinderella, I thought we told you to sweep the front steps, there's still dust on the steps which means your job is far from done!" Lady Tremaine shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "And get a move on – it'll be the reaping before you know it, and I want to see clean steps before you go too," she ordered.

Knowing she wouldn't be seen, Cinderella rolled her eyes. "I will."

"And remember that if either of your stepsisters are chosen for the reaping, then you will step and volunteer as a tribute."

"Yes, I will…" Cinderella folded her arms in protest. _I'd like to see me try. _

The young girl picked up the broom that was sitting propped up beside the front door. Outside, there were horse and carriages taking some children towards the reaping under the watchful eye of their parents to go to the reaping stage. Cinderella rhythmically swept along the porch, getting the dust out from underneath the woven wicker chair, which a horrid plain brown blanket was draped across. A manky looking black cat with thick matted fur perched on the edge of the chair, occasionally swiping its sharp claws at the girl hard at work – sweeping dust, leaves and twigs off onto the ground below the house.

"Come on, Cinderella – it's time to go now!" Anastasia snapped angrily from the front door, wearing some horrendous looking frilled dress, well, she probably adored it but Cinderella was repulsed by it.

"I'll be there in one moment," Cinderella replied, setting the broom up beside the door.

On the way to the reaping, Cinderella made a firm decision in her mind that she wouldn't volunteer, she could run away with Charming, Henry Charming. He was – like his name – an absolutely charming gentleman who would look after and take care of her.

"Cinderella, unfold your arms…" her stepmother ordered. You know, I feel sorry for you, having lost your father so young, maybe it would be a good thing if you were chosen for the games – you could fail and be with him…" Lady Tremaine added coldly.

Biting down on her tongue, Cinderella refrained from saying anything spiteful.

The carriage came to a stop near the arena where the stepsisters and Cinderella went over to the station where the Peacekeepers were ready to effectively stab the children of the district and take their blood.

Aurora was standing, prim and elegantly on the stage, with her pink and shining dress trailing behind her, almost like a fan.

"Greetings, district eight – girls and boys. It is once again that time. The time for us to select one male and one female tribute to represent this fair district." Aurora told the children about how far district eight had not done well in previous years – bearing in mind that fifteen years ago, one boy had managed to get to the bottom three, but she said that maybe this year, things would change. Maybe this year, we would have a victor. "But, let's not dote on the past, we have a tribute- tributes to choose. First. Ladies first, as always with me. Our female district for the 46th Hunger Games is, Miss Drizella Tremaine."

Cinderella's stepsisters' mouths smacked the floor, before turning to their own stepsister, waiting for her to say something, only for her to turn her back slightly, like she was refusing to volunteer for her stepsister.

"Drizella Tremaine?" Aurora called out into the stadium. "Drizella – we know you're in here something." She laughed gently. "Come on, sweetheart."

The Peacekeepers began to close in on Drizella, her sister and her stepsister, which only panicked the tribute more.

Cinderella felt her insides being shred to pieces – metaphorically speaking of course. Across the arena, she caught Henry looking at her and smiling gently, nodding a little, as if to say 'it'll be okay, I'll take care of you.'

By the time that Cinderella could turn back to the stage to see her stepsister shaking hands not only with a boy from their district – but the boy that Cinderella suspected that Anastasia had grown close with. His name – Baker.

District nine

Somewhere in district nine, the youngest tribute awoke, unaware that she was going to be the next female tribute.

Her name? She's called Alice.

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = I absolutely loved writing this chapter, I hope you enjoyed reading it – any guesses for which films our tributes from district nine, ten, eleven, twelve and thirteen will be from (well no guesses for nine – that's Alice in Wonderland!)**


	3. The Reaping - District 10-13

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: So I'm joining the leagues of other writers and doing my own Disney meets Hunger Games story, now let's introduce our much beloved characters Don't forget to review what you think of our tributes of district so far! So that's four more districts!

Note – remember, any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy

**Chapter 03**

District ten

Rapunzel woke up, opening her eyes and looking up at the red material that was draped over the wooden frame of her bed. To her, it was another day that she had awoken in the tower that overlooked the district. Her mother, Mother Gothel, was the escort for district ten and it was her job to call upon the male and female tribute each and every year. More times than ever, she had watched the tributes day after she painfully endured watching the interviews and presentations, only for them to die in the bloodbath.

"Rapunzel, dear. It's time to get dresses now." Mother Gothel looked up to the door of her teenage daughter's bedroom. "I've got your dress for today – unfortunately it doesn't match mine, but the tailor says he's run out of that shade of red."

"Mother… Will I be standing on the platform, or can I finally stand with the other children in this district full of children that I feel so alone in?" Rapunzel opened the door and found herself looking at a pink and lilac dress clinging to a mannequin. "It certainly is pretty…"

Her mother was too busy admiring herself in a full length gold plated mirror to realise that Rapunzel was commenting on the new dress rather than the one Gothel was wearing.

"I know, I mean you'd barely even know that I'm your mother… Because I look young enough to be your sister!" Gothel cackled, silenced instantly by a knock at the door.

Rapunzel mumbled in agreement, before adding, "You still haven't answered my question – please tell me…"

A sigh filled the air. "Of course… Like always – you will stand behind me on my right. At my right side. Just as you always have done, and just as you will always when you are seventeen and eighteen." Gothel strode confidently across the room and prompted her daughter to put the dress on.

As she tied the corset's lace behind Rapunzel's back, Gothel began to revel in her daughter's beauty. Her slender frame and illustrious long blonde locks could captivate the older woman for hours.

"Come along, Rapunzel… It's time to go. And before I forget, I remember someone mentioning that the stylist for district ten has changed… Some wannabe runaway from district two who was looking." Gothel opened the front door and ushered Rapunzel out into the daylight of the tenth district.

Rapunzel smiled before she was pushed to the right hand side of Mother Gothel where one of her assistants – dressed in a Peacekeeper's outfit, pricked Rapunzel's finger, extracting a dot of blood. Every year it had made her wince, and this year was no exception.

"Children, children…" Mother Gothel addressed the girls and boys below her that watched her with, nothing like admiration, but of distress and worry. "Now, don't look so petrified, it's another day in district ten and you're a year older. A polite welcome to the twelve year olds of the tenth district. I've heard of many of this year's tribute's in the other districts of Panem – but it's time to add two more to the pan."

There was a murmur of distress in the stadium and Rapunzel felt concern, concern for the other children.

"District ten's tribute is, the boy who goes by the name Ron Stabbington." Gothel scanned the boy's half of the audience on the left side of the arena.

A tall, bulky looking boy that Rapunzel was surprised to see was still in the reaping bowl and assumed he had to be eighteen, stepped forwards. He looked incredibly menacing with a scar that curved around his right eye socket. When he stepped up onto the stage, smiles crept across the weaker looking boys who had been spared for another year.

"And the female tribute is, no. No! This is not allowed to happen. NO! I will not allow this!" Gothel screamed, scrunching up the paper in her hand and throwing it down on the floor.

The peacekeeper behind Rapunzel cautiously dived in and swept up the paper from the floor, his hands shaking under the freshly laundered white clothes from Capitol.

"Rapunzel Gothel…" he said, turning to look over his shoulder at Rapunzel who now had a hand over her mouth in shock.

A scream filled the air, rippling in the microphone. "No! Don't take another step, Rapunzel," Gothel ordered her daughter, pointing a finger at her. "I will not allow her to go into the games, someone must volunteer now! Volunteer!"

But no one volunteered for Rapunzel…

District eleven

The eleventh district, the district for agriculture and one that Merida had grown accustomed to the dirt and manure of the district. Her father, Fergus, owned a few plots of land that the community had helped him tend to, and in return, Fergus would offer up the produce at a discounted price. Merida's three brothers had always been found actually rolling around in the dirt and filth that the pigs frolicked in.

As today was the day of the reaping, it was only natural that Elinor – their mother – would want her children looking fresh and clean. In the early hours of the morning, she had thrown a bucket of water of Merida's unclothed body whilst she hugged her knees in the bathtub. With a vicious scouring of her daughter's luscious curls, Merida was pleased to get out of the freezing water.

"I need you to get your brothers now, Merida… Or at least help me find them. I'm not having our name disgraced by the sight of your three brothers at the reaping."

"Okay… You and I both know exactly where we'll find my brothers."

The mother and daughter walked down to the pig sty, but were shocked to find that there was no sign of the three boys in there. Instead, a squeal from the kitchens made Elinor rush inside.

"You three, not one move – bathtub, now!" she demanded with great force that told the three boys that there would be severe consequences if she was not obeyed. "Today is your first reaping and I will not allow you to go swimming in filth – you're going to get a reputation if you're not careful… Merida!"

On hearing her name called out, Merida ran the opposite way, vaulting over the wooden fence that shook when she put weight on it. Running through the fields was something that she had always done as a child. Her father would lift her up onto his shoulders and carry her home whenever he caught her running around the field. Probably because he didn't want her getting trampled by the livestock.

She climbed up onto Angus, who was grazing on the overgrowing weeds in the corner of the field.

"Come on, Angus. Let's get far away from here. Well, we'll go back to the reaping arena." Merida patted the horse's mane before kicking him gently. Riding was something which allowed Merida to clear her mind and just be her adventurous self. She felt like she was able to be herself whenever she was riding with Angus.

Time ticked on and by the time that Merida was in the middle of the forest. A clanging of the clocktower that stood in the centre of the town square just south of the reaping stadium.

"It's that time again, Angus." Merida lashed her horse's reigns to a fallen down tree surrounded by moss and long grass for him to snack on. "I'll come back for you after the reaping."

With a snort of hot air in her face, Merida took that as her goodbye from Angus. She sprinted through the forest, bundling her dress in her right hand and lifting it up past her knee. Speed was on Merida's side and she had always beaten the other boys and girls of district eleven in a race.

When she reached the arena, she pushed her way through to the front of the stage where she had always stood, because no one ever stood there, and she knew that it would make her stand out and less likely to be reaped. Or so she would have liked to have thought about it like that. Looking up onto the stage, she saw Elastigirl, or now Mrs Incredible standing on the stage above her wearing the usual skin tight red and black superhero suit. No one ever knew the identity of Elastigirl due to the red, and now black mask that she wore plastered over her eyes. Behind her stood her husband, son and daughter wearing identical outfits.

"Hey everyone," she said with a weary yawn. "Ah, families can really tire you out, you know what I'm talking about?" Elastigirl shook her head. "Sorry, of course you don't, because you're all kids!"

A nervous peacekeeper stepped forwards and whispered something in her ear. Elastigirl leaned towards the peacekeeper, making her body stretch a little.

"Okay, nervous over here wants me to get on with the reaping." Stretching her hands into each bowl, she picked out a name from them. "The boy is Macintosh of district eleven, the girl is Merida of district eleven. Come on children, let's get this game on the road. Happy Hunger Games district eleven." From Elastigirl's tone, it was clear that she no longer wanted to represent district eleven as the escort for the tributes.

The first thought in Merida's mind wasn't that she was in the Hunger Games, but that she had left Angus tied up to a tree. Her brothers were in the process of forcing their way through the crowds towards her, when she called out to them to stay put and collect Angus from the forest – not that they had any idea where in the forest her horse was.

District twelve

Yzma's eyes opened in a click as a cricket chirped on her window sill. But she wasn't in a generous mood and slammed her fist down on the tiny green insect sitting on the indigo pane. There was a squishing sound that made Yzma grimace before flicking the remains of the now dead cricket.

"Kronk," she moaned. "Kronk?... Kronk!" her scream filled the air of the house.

"I'm right here, Yzma." Kronk stepped forwards, out of the shadows and towards the tall windows that spanned the whole of the wall. Dragging the curtains to the sides, he let the sunlight beam down on Yzma's bed. "Are you ready for the reaping today?" he asked, turning back towards her. "It's about time that you produced a winner for district twelve…"

Yzma folded her arms in protest. "Why should I?" she snapped. "I don't gain anything from having a district twelve victor."

"Well, don't you remember Jane Porter and Jessica Rabbit?" Kronk tilted his head, remembering the beautiful escorts that had everything compared to Yzma. He looked at Yzma and her pale almost purple tinted skin. Her eyes sagged so much that he wondered how they stayed in their sockets, but also how on earth her personal stylist managed to make a difference. "Jessica Rabbit rode the train of success on Phillip all those years ago. That's the Phillip who married Aurora – the escort for district eight. Jessica Rabbit is now a top performer in the Capitol. I've heard that all the wealthiest senators and gamemakers have paid priceless amounts to have private meetings with Jessica Rabbit."

"You can't paid priceless, Kronk," Yzma sighed, climbing out of the bed. "You could pay a maximum amount, but not a priceless amount…" She had never really understood how Kronk could be so illogical. "And last I heard of her, Jessica Rabbit has also become a morphling – I wouldn't call that a life that I am craving. Jane Porter is a nobody now after she ran away to district thirteen with that naturist, or was it nudist? No, he was an ape man – Tarzan!"

"Oh boy…" Kronk heaved a deep breath as Yzma could carried away moaning about Jane and saying how neither of them had been successful. "Well, the reaping should be going ahead right now, shouldn't it?"

"Don't be idiotic, Kronk! It can't take place without me, I am the escort, I pick the names! I sentence two children to death!" Yzma cackled, throwing her head back and looking up at the high ceiling. "Dying children is the best kind of dying people in my books."

Kronk shivered at the merciless and quite frankly scary side of Yzma that came out in her around the time of the reaping, the training and games themselves. She spoke about dying children like she would answer the normal question.

A knock at the door relieved Kronk because he didn't have to listen to Yzma. She dressed behind a screen and quickly shuffled out of the door, her movement minimised by the long pencil skirt she wore that was almost clinging to her ankles.

"Hello? Are you coming, Kronk?" Yzma screeched, her voice echoed through the house. "Because if you're not, the house needs a deep clean, and I mean deep…" Knowing all too well that Kronk would rather stay at home, Yzma left him behind once more. She walked down the spiralling staircase towards the main door.

"Morning, Ms Yzma," a peacekeeper said, opening the door for her.

She murmured a response before being led to the arena. Her beady yellow eyes scanned the rows and rows of children that's skin looked slightly darkened by the coal and ash in the air. Recently a mine had collapsed, trapping a number of workers, mainly men and a few boys – Yzma could even see the puffy redness underneath the younger children's eyes.

"Tributes for the forty sixth Hunger Games – two of you will go on to represent this district… I won't delay any longer, I've got a meal to have." Yzma shuffled over to the glass bowl that was nearly filled to the brim of names. "So many names this year, but times have been desperate lately. And our female tribute for this year's games is, Esmeralda Johansen…"

A little chaos broke out as the girl stepped forwards. The girls around her pulled at the fancy material of her skirt and shirt. A sleeve from completely torn from Esmeralda's shirt. The younger children began to scream in terror as Esmeralda was thrown to the ground.

Although Yzma loved the thrill of the fight, she clicked her fingers and pointed at the girl being beaten to the floor by the children of her own district.

"Well, that was quite, a shock," Yzma said, putting a hand on her tribute's shoulder.

A stone was thrown their way, but it missed and hit the floor nearby, prompting Yzma to continue and just pick a name from the boy's bowl.

"And the boy will be, Clopin!" Yzma recognised this name, he was a street performer who organised entertainment for the children of this district. His charm and good manners had gotten him far from what she had heard. "Come along, don't take too long…" Once Clopin stepped onto the stage, Yzma held her two tributes' hands in the air. "District twelve, I give you your tributes!"

The reception from her exclamation from far from what she had been expecting… Barely anyone cheered, few people even clapped.

District thirteen

The tavern that Sarah Hawkins owned was being swept, or at least the dust was being swept under the mats and into the corners shadowed by darkness.

"Jim – come on now! It's reaping day today, and please don't go boarding to the stadium, or on any – I repeat any other motorised or such forms of transport." Sarah was making sure that there weren't any kind of loopholes in her statement. Last year, her son Jim had crashed into a market stall and she was forced to pay compensation for the owner's damaged stock. "Jim Hawkins!" she snapped quickly, hoping he would hurry up.

"I'm right here, and I promise okay, I promise. No Peacekeepers will be knocking on your door any time soon. So you can stop worrying, okay?" Jim squeezed his mother's shoulders as she scrubbed the dirty dishes from the previous night. "Bye Mum," he said, heading got the door, but he stopped when his mum called out his name.

"Wait!"

"What is it?"

"You just said bye, you said it last year and that Jiminy Cricket was chosen, and before then, you said I'll see you tonight… That was my good luck charm, Jim. Come back safely please. I love you…" Sarah watched her sun grab his jacket and then open the door. Once it was closed, she headed for the window and watched her son disappear out of sight towards the reaping.

The mother of Jim set about cleaning the dishes, including the countless amount of beer glasses and tainted silver tankards. Heaving a deep sigh, she wished that Jim's father hadn't been so insistent on going to work in the power plant. It may have given them money to pay for what Jim needed.

When Jim's father went to the power plant, there was a minor nuclear meltdown. One worker came to tavern door and told her that her husband had sacrificed himself to let the worker survive. He shut himself off to switch of the power from inside the reactor. Although Sarah didn't understand what she was being told, she knew that it meant her husband was never coming back, and that he suffered a great deal.

Because she lost her husband and only had Jim, she never wanted to lose him, especially not to the games where she could end up watching him die.

The tavern wasn't open yet, but she knew that the parents of district thirteen would be wanting a drink or two, which is why the tavern opened early on reaping day and allowed children to enter, but not drink – for obvious reasons.

"Maam?" The voice startled Sarah, and she turned to see a peacekeeper standing at the door.

"No," she mumbled, clasping a hand over her mouth. "It's not true… He's been chosen, hasn't he?"

"Indeed he has maam. I don't like to be the one to say it, but Jim has been chosen to represent district thirteen in this year's Hunger Games…"

**Thought from AspiringWriterGirl = So we have all our tributes (but a few – but all will be revealed, I promise!)**

**The tributes we know of are, Jasmine and Achmed, Meg and Hercules, Claudia Bimbette and LeFou, Anna and Kristoff, Mei and 'Ping', Tink and Peter, Nakoma and Thomas, Drizella and Baker, Alice, Rapunzel and Ron Stabbington, Merida and Mackintosh, Esmeralda and Clopin and Jim… Things are heating up **


	4. Saying Goodbyes - District 1-7

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: Hello – I wonder if you've got any preferences or ideas as to who you want to survive or do well in the Games. But before we get to the Capitol, I'd like to look at the goodbyes that each tribute has to go through

Note – remember, any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy

**Chapter 04**

District one

Jasmine sat in a large, throne like chair in a room under the custody of the Peacekeepers. The chair felt soft to sit on, and as she looked at the table that the chair was beside, she saw a small knife. Although she was desperate to leave the district behind, part of her considered taking the knife and eliminating the Peacekeepers guarding her. At just sixteen years old, Jasmine was experienced in the art of knife throwing, and generally at defending herself because of her father's wealth. He was incredibly wealthy and had a strong head on his shoulders – so as soon as his daughter came into the world, he found an experienced swordsman and combat artist to train Jasmine at least three years before she was old enough to be in the reaping bowl.

"Jasmine?"

She looked up and saw her father standing in the doorway, nearly masked by his assistants and guards.

"Father…" Jasmine mumbled, rising slowly from the chair and hearing it scrape back against the marble floor.

"What were you thinking? Volunteering like that – I thought we agreed that you would never volunteer… Oh Jasmine, you were so close to surviving without ever having to participate in a Hunger Games. But now-"

"I was picked, Father." Jasmine took her father's hand in hers. "I promise you that I was reaped, indeed, I volunteered, but I had to. To get away from the life of the Capitol."

"But this cannot happen."

A peacekeeper prompted the Sultan to finish saying his goodbye to his daughter.

"Very well. Jasmine, don't trust anyone. Use the skills that you have and prove that I made the right decision training you at such a young age because, before your mother died, she insisted that you didn't undergo the training I had planned for you."

"I will, I promise." Jasmine threw her arms around her short and slightly thick father before she was prised away from her.

In the next room, she could hear Achmed protesting that his parents and uncle be removed from the room, but it was all useless. The female tribute simply rolled her eyes.

District two

Meg may have been trained well in the art of combat, and she was used to death – she had seen her parents die, and she had seen the boy she loved die. It had made her cold, it had made her fall under Hades' protection. He decided that she was worthy of the knowledge that he held. What intrigued her more was this older boy called Hercules who was so close to getting through life without being reaped for the games.

"These games – the games, they are going to kill us all." Meg rubbed her temple and forehead with her slender fingers.

"Megara?"

At the mention of her name, she looked up to see an older lady with her hair pulled back off her face. To be honest, Megara thought she looked more like a farmer than someone who worked, or belonged in the Capitol.

"You don't know who I am, but I am Hercules' mother. Will you do me a favour?" The elderly lady fastened her hands around Meg's. Without even allowing Meg to utter a response, she continued. "Please help him… I couldn't afford to help him to prepare for the games, but you can help him, can't you?" Her eyes shone.

"I can try," mumbled Meg, slipping her hands from her fellow tribute's mother's grip. "You're welcome… I guess."

District three

Laura and Pauline clung to their older sister, never wanting to let go and hoping that the Peacekeepers would be unable to take Claudia away.

"Claudia – what are you going to do?" Laura squealed, gripping her sister'

"It's not like you have Gaston to help you – now with a man like that beside you... You'd be sure to win. Or at least you would get to the final two with him, and then you'd kill him yourself. You would win and then come home." Pauline let go of her sister, squeezing her hand tightly. "I guess it might be nice. You'll get to go to the Capitol. You'll get interviewed and wear a pretty outfit. Mr Cogsworth will train you and Ms Wardrobe will help dress you. When you think about it, you'll get the life you dreamed of getting since the three of us were all little kids."

Laura pushed away from her sisters, unable to contemplate the fact that she might lose her sister forever. "Pauline! That's horrible!" she shouted. "We might, we might-"

"No Laura – Pauline's right. We have to believe that everything will be alright. It's not good to believe that I'm just going to die, okay? I will fight for as long as it takes to get out alive, Laura. Now I need you to apologise to our father that I wasn't able to say goodbye properly. He's in no condition to have come out and said goodbye. Not with that nasty cough he's been building up lately. Tell him…" Claudia mumbled, feeling a lump in her throat and trying to be brave. "That I love him."

The peacekeepers were taking a hold of the two younger sisters and moving them towards the door out of the room that Claudia was effectively being held in.

"Claudia, Claudia!" they screamed, clawing at the peacekeepers in an attempt to free themselves and catch one last embrace with their doomed sister.

The female tribute of district three found herself stepping backwards into a wall that was panels of woods that an intricate pattern had been carved into by some craftsman of the district belonging to lumber.

Little did she know that on the other side of that wall that her fellow male tribute was sat curled up and leaning against it – just like she was.

District four

Elsa sat down at the table gripping her younger sister's.

"Ow, Elsa – you're hurting me… Your hands are just so cold!" Anna squealed, pulling her hands back, away from her sister's grip. "You have to believe me, I love you too much to let you just disappear in the games. Elsa, I had to prove to you that I was able to look after you – just as you have been able to protect me for so long. Ever since Mum and Dad passed on, I've felt like you were always the one that had to look after me – but why can't I take care of you? Sisters are supposed to look out for each other you know."

"Anna – be quiet…" Elsa whispered, murmuring some more to herself. "I will never forgive myself now. It's like I've failed our parents – I promised to look after you and that I would volunteer if you were ever chosen."

"But why Elsa?" Anna pleaded an honest answer of her sister. "Please tell me…"

"I can't, okay?" Standing up, Elsa glanced out of the window, looking down at the workers tidying the reaping stage away. "Please let it go. You're going to force me to do something I don't want to do… I can't tell you."

"Elsa – I'm your sister. You can tell me anything. Now more than ever, because pretty soon, I might not get the chance to see you ever again so please take advantage of this opportunity."

"Anna, stop it!" Elsa yelped, striking a hand on curtain.

A jet of ice cold blue shot up the purple material of the curtain, freezing it almost instantly.

"Elsa!" Anna exclaimed, holding a hand to her mouth. "How did you-? When did you learn-? What!?"

"Anna, keep your voice down now!" the older sister snapped, patting the ice and snow off the soft material of the curtain. "Someone might hear." Elsa looked deep into Anna's eyes. "Now you know, I could have used my curse to survive in the Games – the forty sixth annual games."

"Elsa – how will I survive?" Anna became frantic and couldn't control herself.

"Anna. My advice to you is, is that you need to remember what our father taught us about fishing and making nets. Make something from anything and take advantage of the environment and the resources you have. Keep the boy close to you – he can be a powerful ally to you Anna. But I think that the other tributes will have exactly the same idea…"

"I'll do my best Elsa – I promise." Anna squeezed her sister tightly and when the Peacekeepers dragged Elsa away, Anna threw herself at the door only for it to slam in her face.

On the other side of the door, she could hear Oaken squealing a goodbye to Elsa as it seemed that she was the only visitor for the two district four tributes.

District five

Fa Zhou and his wife never showed up to say goodbye to their daughter – mainly because they never knew that their daughter had been reaped. Let alone a son they never had. Instead, Fa Ping had an unexpected visitor – the son of a system analyst, Li Shang.

"Who are you?" he asked. "I know nearly every boy and girl in this district, and I am sure Fa Zhou never had a son. Only one daughter."

Mulan tried her best to put on a boy's voice, but it was a little rusty, having never had any practice. Which girl has though?

"Ah, you know… Well I tend to spend most of my time hanging around by the mountains. You know, the big massive pointy things of the edge of town- I mean, the district. Nothing too special. So what brings you here?" Deep down, Mulan had a slight twinge in her stomach – delicate blue butterflies fluttering inside. Looking at Shang, Mulan's eyes began to trace his broad shoulders and defined chin.

"Who are you, _Ping_?" he asked again, emphasising the name with a lashing of his tongue.

Mulan stood up, walking towards Shang. "If you don't know who I am, you better just go!" She straightened instantly, trying to intimidate the boy who towered over her.

"You know, you're pretty short for a teenage boy."

"Or maybe you're incredibly tall, it works both ways…"

Outside, Mulan could hear the female tribute, Mei, scream out that her father and sisters can't leave her alone.

"They'll be coming for you next, Li Shang."

Before her visitor could be removed by the Peacekeepers, Shang slammed the door shut allowing Mulan to let out a sigh of relief.

Relief because it meant that she was getting away with reaping herself as another name in order to get more food for her family. Despite living in one of the richest districts, her family struggled to feed themselves occasionally. She could hear the faint snivelling of the girl in the room next to her.

District six

Peter looked at each of the Lost Boys – they weren't going to last long without him, or Tinkerbell to help look after them. "Okay. Slightly – you're in charge whilst I'm gone." He squeezed the tallest boy's shoulders. "You're going to have to take care of Nibs, the twins, Cubby and Tootles because they're going to look to you. But all you need to do is just do what I do because you know exactly what to do, yes?"

"But Peter, this isn't fair – they have to know that you can't go into the games!" Slightly's chin began to wobble and Peter could tell that the Lost Boy was on the ridge of crying.

"Don't cry, Slightly." Peter rubbed his eyes and walked over to Nibs, the boy who rarely spoke. "You know where to find everything right. In the transport district, there are loads of abandoned warehouses and such that you can hide in. So you just need to secure food, but as the best pick pocket- you'll know what to do." He ruffled Nibs' hair. "Twins – you'll be night watchers. Take it in two shifts overnight and rest during the day. And Tootles – well you can just sit tight. Find somewhere to watch the Games and inform the others what's going on."

"Wait – I want to see him. I want to see Peter!" a young voice, a girl's voice squealed on the other side of the door.

"Why don't you boys go and find somewhere to stay for the night?" Peter gave them one last hug before watching them leave.

He saw a girl wearing a blue dress standing in the doorway. She had her light brown hair kept in neat spiralling curls. She was Wendy Darling – daughter of a conductor.

"Wendy?"

"Peter!" Wendy ran forwards and threw her arms around him. "Please come back alive. Please," she pleaded, a tear running down her face. "I want to give you something." She pulled out a metal thimble.

"What is it?"

"I want to give you this, and. A kiss." Wendy leaned forwards and pressed her lips against Peter's. "You can win the Games – I know you can, because I've seen what you can do."

Peter stepped back, falling onto the table. Instead of lying there, he stood up again. "What do you mean?"

"You can fly."

Wendy hugged Peter tightly. Over her shoulder, Peter could see Tinkerbell standing in the doorway with a hand over her mouth. She darted away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

"Tink," he whispered.

"What did you say, Peter?" Wendy looked up at him. "Oh, promise me you'll come back, please?"

"Uh, oh well I guess." Peter shook his head, coming back to reality. "Sure, Wendy. Sure. But you have to have to look after the Lost Boys, all of them…"

"Of course I will, Peter."

District seven

Thomas ran his hand through his red hair, unaware of what the future had in store for him. His parents had been and gone, and now it was John Smith's turn to tell him goodbye as Governor Ratcliffe left. Ratcliffe didn't want Thomas to forget about the debt he owed.

"What did he want?" Smith asked, looking cautiously over his shoulder as the man of great authority in the seventh district. "I've never really liked him to be honest with you…"

"I know. John?" Thomas replied, squeezing the rim of his beret cap in his hands. "I don't know if I'll ever see you again, but I know that you're the best person to ask-"

"What do you want to ask, Thomas?" John was eager to know what the younger boy wanted to ask. "You know that I'd want to help any way I can."

"Look after my family. I can't tell whether I'll survive this or not, but I need to know that my parents and my little sister Catherine will protected. The Peacekeepers have always come around our house for as long as I can remember, and my father is getting old – I don't think he can survive another beating from them…"

"Of course I will take care of them. I'll do whatever it takes."

"You really ought to stop the relationship with that girl from the tribe – she's not good for you, and I can't help but feel if people found out, then it would be… I don't even know."

"Don't you worry about me and Pocahon- You just worry about the Games rather than me and what I'm doing. How does that sound?" John patted Thomas, who eventually let it drop and turned to the window taking one of his last few looks at his home district.

Little did he know that Nakoma was having a similar conversation with Pocahontas about the person she had been running off to go and see.

But what everyone knew was that it was going to be a rollercoaster of a Hunger Games this year.

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = Ah, a nice little snippet from each of the first seven district's goodbyes – if anyone has any suggestions for how I should write the chapter after next – when they are on their way to the Capitol, should I pick a few district's tributes and then take it from their perspective, or carry on what I'm doing – I have no clue! (?) **


	5. Saying Goodbyes - District 8-13

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: Hello – I wonder if you've got any preferences or ideas as to who you want to survive or do well in the Games. But before we get to the Capitol, I'd like to look at the goodbyes that each tribute has to go through, last chapter covered seven goodbyes, now for the next six or so.

Note – remember, any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy

**Chapter 05**

District eight

Despite the fact that she was not the tribute for the eighth district, her stepsister was, and that meant that Cinderella had to go too. The night before, Lady Tremaine had planted a slap on the side of the face for not volunteering. Even as they waited to say goodbye to Drizella Tremaine, her stepmother interrogated the district's escort, Aurora and tried to convince her to switch the tribute to her stepdaughter. But Aurora insisted this was not possible.

"I'm sorry, I cannot change what has been done. There's no alternative to the situation – it must go ahead." Aurora turned to the door, her dress shifting its colour between blue and pink as she moved about. "I will warn you that there isn't much time – it's not long until Drizella and Baker head off to the Capitol for the Games. Please say your goodbyes because I'm sure you wouldn't want to tarnish the relationship you have."

The wood door closed, causing the two tapestried either side of it to blow in the draft. It was silent amongst the four women.

Anastasia embraced her sister, squeezing her tightly. "Don't give up, Drizella. Please don't…"

"I won't Annie," Drizella replied, trying to sound brave for a moment. "Not yet."

The sisters pulled apart and Anastasia headed for the door – her mother felt the need to question her apparent departure.

"I'm going to say goodbye to Baker- he's a… a friend." Anastasia opened the door and struggled to close it without looking back over her shoulder at her tribute sister. Heading for the other room, she passed a weeping mother being by her husband. Her fist knocked against the door and she waited for an answer.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," she replied. "Anastasia."

The door opened. "I didn't think you'd want to see me…"

"Who cares what anyone says?"

District nine

Tarrant Hightop lifted his hat off his hat and then retrieved the needle he had tied in amongst his hair. He yanked his belt off and prepped his arm for a morphling injection. It was his way of getting by – he may only have been a child, but he used it every now and again. If anyone had found out about it, then the Peacekeepers would have locked him up in an institute or a sort and then attempted to wean him off the morphling.

"Sweet, sweet morphling!" he exclaimed, lounging back into his seat to feel the true effect of the morphling taje over his body.

In the next room, the youngest tribute who was three years younger than Tarrant, could hear the cackling of her fellow tribute as she watched her sister leave the room with their cat Dinah.

"Take care of Dinah please!" Alice called out, almost tempting to go out and follow her sister home, but she wasn't allowed to, she couldn't.

"Of course I will. Just take care of yourself now."

District ten

"I will not allow it! I am her mother – there is no way you can think that I would allow myself to let her go gallivanting off to the Capitol and send her to a near certain death!" Mother Gothel screamed at the projected image of President Triton whilst Rapunzel sat on the chair in the corner. "Triton?"

"Mother Gothel – the rules have been put in place for a reason – it's not fair for us to bend the rules for you, but not for the others. Your daughter will participate in the games this year, and you will not intervene, otherwise the punishment will be severe."

The screen went blank.

Mother Gothel's fingers tightened around the chair she was stood behind. Rapunzel was her ticket to youthful looks, and there was no way that she was going to let it just slip away from her so easily.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Rapunzel?"

"It will be okay – I'm sure my chances are high, especially with my gift. I'll be able to survive. You've shown me how to defend myself, and- I have Pas-" The young girl felt Pascal hiding behind her hair, out of her mother's sight. "I know how to take care of myself. Even if you've kept me shut off from the rest of the district." She tried to make it sound positive, but there was a little bit of her deep down that disliked that her mother kept her trapped away. Rapunzel had tried to convince herself that it was all for her own good – but some things weren't enough to overrule that niggling thought.

"You know I love you very much, don't you?" Mother Gothel replied, cupping either side of her daughter's face.

"I love you more."

"I love you most Rapunzel. Don't forget that…" Her eyes traced her daughter's hair. "You're growing up so fast – I'll be nothing without you so you need to come out of this alive."

Meanwhile, in the room further down the corridor, Ron Stabbington was talking to his twin brother about their old partner in crime who had ditched them during a small scale robbery a few years ago.

"Do you know where he is now?" Ron asked, pointing the tip of the small penknife he owned onto the table he was sat down at.

His twin checked that there was no one outside the room that could be listening in. "I heard that there's a new mentor for the tenth district…" Reaching inside his jacket, the other brother pulled out a scrap of paper that showed a photo of their accomplice shaking hands with President Triton.

Ron chuckled at the sight of the photo. "I wonder what our great President would think of if he happened to find out that one of his mentors has been dicing with danger and engaging in illegal activity, don't you?"

"That can be our leverage. I doubt that Flynn Rider will forget us once we give him a little… a little reminder…"

District eleven

Merida's three brothers seemed more impressed with the room than the fact that their sister had just been reaped and this may be the last time that they see each other. It brought a smile to her face knowing that they were happy. She had trusted that the three of them would look after Angus. Her horse was one of her most valued possession and it was hard knowing that she was going to have to give him up and participate in the Games.

"Are you ready?" Fergus – her father, asked, smiling at his daughter with a twinkle in his eyes. "Have you been out at that makeshift archery range you've made out in the forest?"

Merida's mouth opened and she snorted in disbelief. "You knew about that?" she asked, unable to comply with the fact that her father knew about the archery range that she had created.

"Of course I knew about it – what? Do you think I believed that you were going to work in the fields? You've never worked a day there in your life!"

Even Merida's mother was aware of this hobby of her daughter as she cupped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

"Fergus!" she said with a harsh tone. "Take no notice Merida, I know you have worked at least a week on the farm."

"That's a lie!" snapped Merida. "I've spent more time on the fields and in the farm than all three of them put together."

"Come on, let's not get carried away. At least you'll spend some time with young Macintosh."

"What- no!"

"Why not? I always thought you and he would end up together." Elinor squeezed her husband's hand. "We'll be thinking of you the whole time that you're gone."

"And you will be what takes me through the Games…" Merida mumbled to herself, her hands shook a little until she eventually took hold of her parent's hands. "I'll be back soon, I can take care of myself- my archery skills are on point."

"Yes, and you don't hide it either," her mother replied, wiping her eyes.

Fergus brushed his wife's cheek. "There, now don't you go bawling your eyes out my wee flower."

Merida heaved a sigh when she saw Elastigirl standing in the doorway, ready to take her on her way to the Capitol. "That time has arrived. I love you all so much."

"Don't give up Merida!" her mother called out as Peacekeepers herded the triplets and her parents out of the room.

District twelve

Esmeralda didn't anticipate anyone coming to see her off, so when no one did, she went into the room where they were holding her fellow tribute and performing friend, Clopin. Her and Clopin had performed on the streets of district twelve in order to get some food, random offerings for their performance and sometimes money.

"What is our plan, Clopin?" she asked, sitting down opposite Clopin who was still dressed in his dull outfit.

"Our plan is to get out alive, stick by each other and don't let other people either pull us apart or get into our alliance." Clopin put his feet up on the chair. "We can use our performance skills to wow our audience and get us more sponsors. People have told me that sponsors can be the line between losing and winning."

"That's a good idea – perhaps we can learn something new off the other tributes." Esmeralda hadn't been able to learn the identity of the other tributes as quickly as she had in previous years. Probably because she was able to go to the viewing hall where the games were projected almost straight after the reaping.

"See? You're beginning to think like a tribute already."

"Well you are as well…"

District thirteen

Jim Hawkin's mother was distraught. She couldn't bear to see her son get dragged away, but she had to stay strong and believe that he would make it through the games. She just had to, it was hard enough when her husband passed away of nuclear radiation poisoning last year, but if she lost her son as well, she didn't see whether there was a reason for her to remain. Other than the small scale bar that she owned in the centre of the thirteenth district.

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = There's the goodbyes done, admittedly, they are getting smaller and smaller, but that's reflected in the district and the person, I like a variation.**


	6. To the Capitol - District 1-7

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: So the tributes are on their way to the Capitol, let's see how it goes.

Note – remember, any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy and some abilities that the characters have in the films, they more than likely have it in this story too!

**Chapter 06**

District one to the Capitol

Jasmine and Achmed were ushered onto the train by their escort, Charlotte. The young female tribute was eager to meet her mentor, and her stylist, because although the Games were a bloodthirsty event, she saw an elegant side to the games. The elegance in the interviews, how the tributes held themselves, and how the tributes had a stylist to keep them looking their best. Whilst that was relatively easy for a girl from the first district, it was even more glamourous at the Capitol, but it all came at a cost.

"Now why don't you just sit down at this pretty little table here whilst I go and go your mentor because you're probably going to want to get to know one another before we get to the Capitol, don't you think?"

"Well that is an idea. Yes woman, you go and get that mentor then." Achmed waved his hand at the escort.

Charlotte, in a huff, turned and shuffled down the narrow passageway that was far too narrow for her and her large ribbed skirt. The two tributes listened to the escort growl and snarl her way down the walkway

"So, what made you volunteer?" Achmed sneered at Jasmine, wondering the answer himself. "Despite being reaped of course," he snorted.

"I was going to volunteer anyway, I had to because I need the independence. Through all of the training that my father provided me, I want to prove that it wasn't all for nothing, so I took a chance and made it sure that I would volunteer."

"Well your training is minimalistic in comparison to mine." Achmed picked at his fingernails even though they were already clean. "I've trained with weapons, I've undergone archery and combat skills and been taught how to survive if I was abandoned in the wild."

Jasmine rolled her eyes, this was the guy she had been pitted with alongside the other careers and she knew it was going to be difficult to get along with him.

"Well we'll just have to see whether it pays off in the future because it is one thing to say you've done all this training, but it is another to have to use it in a variety of different situations." Jasmine was quick to retaliate. She didn't want him looking down on her because he had more than she did as she still had something to give herself.

"Oh, she's got quite the mouth on her, hasn't she?"

Jasmine and Achmed turned to see their mentor standing in the doorway in front of their escort.

"Tributes, my name is Jafar and I will be your mentor for these games. You will pay attention to what I have to say and to make sure that you put yourselves across in the right manner in order to secure the most amount of sponsor."

He had a long thin face that a spiralled coil of black beard caught Jasmine's attention, in a bad way. He wore a long turban which a vibrant red feather emanating from it. A long red cape trailed behind him as he moved towards the table, forcing Charlotte to have to wait for him to sit down so that she didn't step on it.

"You boy – your training. Go."

"Well, I have had the best training from the toughest of coaches that district one has to offer. I can hold myself up in a survival situation and know combat basics and am a competent horse rider," Achmed said boldly, sitting up straight in his chair.

"Oh, well that's changed since earlier… Tell him about your training with weapons, your archery training, combat skills and survival techniques you've been taught that mean you would survive in the wild," Jasmine taunted Achmed, knowing that she was going to regret making an enemy of her district ally who could be her only ally. "What training have you actually had?"

Jafar stroked his beard. "Yes indeed. Now before you answer, I want the truth or we are going to fall out… I'm here to help you, but if you aren't willing to cooperate and tell me the truth, then I will drop you so hard that you won't have a chance to land on your feet."

"I've trained with a knife, worked in the stables and learnt how to start a fire… That's about it."

"Pitiful – Miss La Bouff, have this boy undergo training of the highest standard once we arrive in the Capitol."

"Right oh Mr Jafar, I'll be right on it now…" Charlotte replied, biting back any rude remark she wanted to throw Jafar's way. "You enjoy your meal now."

Jasmine turned her attention to the rows of knives and forks which were either side of the bowl. An attendant came and placed a plate of food in front of the tributes and their mentor before being waved away by Jafar.

Jasmine started to laugh as she watched Achmed chose the fork closest to the bowl. "Wrong fork."

"What are you saying to me?" he snapped back.

"You work your way towards the plate. Picking the furthest away piece of cutlery for each course," Jasmine explained calmly, despite the fact that she was getting quite the glare from her fellow tribute.

District two to the Capitol

The two tributes of the second district spent the majority of the journey at separate ends of the shuttle. Their mentor, Phil, was nowhere to be seen – it was assumed that he was hiding in the food carriage requesting meals to be specially made for him by the cook.

Aphrodite, the escort for this district wondered why the tributes were spending so much time apart. She thought it was best that they were both left alone though all she really wanted to do was apologise to Hercules because she knew him and his parents – his biological parents rather than his adoptive parents who were farmers in the eleventh district. The escort knew that his father used to be a part of the Gamemakers committee before stepping down to get to know his son last year. Rather than intervene and force the tributes together, because sometimes the tributes just weren't able to get along with one another. She lay back down on the chaise that was pushed up against one side of the carriage and closed her eyes.

District three to the Capitol

Claudia Bimbette was devastated to have to leave her two younger sisters and their father behind, because she had no idea what was going to happen to them whilst she was away competing in the Games. Her sisters made her promise that she would return home safely, but with the fourteen year old that she would have to represent district three with, this promise was looking incredibly unlikely.

Mrs Potts sat down beside her. "Now I'd like for you to get to know Cogsworth- he shall be your mentor for the duration of the games. You should listen and take on board whatever he has to say because it may be the difference between life and death, don't you know?"

"Right…" Claudia mumbled a response as a plate of food was brought to the table, but she pushed it away from her. "I'm not hungry."

"Oh come on girl, you must eat and preserve your energy for the preliminary trials so that you can secure some sponsorship, wouldn't that be nice?"

Unlike Claudia, LeFou wasn't passing up the opportunity of free food and was ramming forkful after forkful into his mouth.

"You must be the tributes from district three that I shall have to take under my wing for the Games." The district three mentor, Cogsworth, wore a dark brown suit with a tie fastened right up to his neck, so much that it was clearly pinching the skin of his neck. "So before we get started on the history of your childhood and the family you're leaving behind, I want to know how you're going to win the games. Honestly please."

"I'm going to run and find cover the moment the cannon sounds," LeFou said confidently. "That way, I could hide and wait it out."

"And what happens when the careers come and find you because they retrieved a weapon whilst you ran away at the first sign of trouble?"

"I- I'll get something from the sponsorships I secure in the preliminary rounds…"

"And what if you don't?"

"Well I- maybe-"

"Bang! You're dead and your corpse is used as a blanket by the district one male tribute… It's not your day at all. You girl, what about you? How are you going to survive then?"

Claudia was a little flustered, but after a little bit of thought. "Well I could create an electric wire that could protect me and if I couldn't do that, then maybe I would be better off befriending a career, or just someone that I can use to get a headstart because it's unlikely that the careers will have anything to do with me."

Cogsworth didn't say anything. A smile crept across his face and he laughed a little. "You probably won't be able to make an electric wire at first, but maybe if you can get a sponsorship, then someone might send you what you want."

"My dad will send me something. I'm sure he will." Claudia nodded, remembering him setting aside a little 'something precious' for her.

"I highly doubt that a man of the third district will be able to – let alone get a chance to submit something as a sponsorship."

"He will…" Claudia responded naively before running away down the shuttle with her hands covering her eyes to shield the escort, tribute and mentor from her tears.

District four to the Capitol

Anna stared back at her sister from the steps leading up to the shuttle that would whisk her away from her fishing roots and into the Capitol, ready to compete in the games with the ice farmer, Kristoff.

"_I'll be okay…_" Anna mouthed to Elsa, who was debating whether or not to kick off a fuss with her talent but knew it would be better off to be left alone, as it was.

The older sister watched the shuttle depart from the small station platform of the fourth district before another carriage pulled by an old model operating system. There was a moment where the crowd lingered, but as nothing happened, they lost interest and left to go back to their daily lives. This could not be said for the older sister of the female tribute. She was grabbed roughly by two Peacekeepers and a blunt object was smacked into the side of her face, perilously close to her temple. For sure, Elsa was unaware that she too was going to play a vital part in this year's Games.

District five

Mulan prepared herself for the dangerous journey that was ahead of her. So that her family could survive, she had submitted herself as two separate individuals which was difficult to pull off during the reaping each year. But now she had to convince everyone, and herself, that she was a boy. She was Ping, and no one could find out about her true identity. Not even her mentor, or the stylist that would eventually dress her. That was going to be challenging too…

"Ping!" Matchmaker screeched from the other end of the shuttle as it hurtled towards the Capitol. "Mushu wants to see you!"

"What if I don't want to see him?" Mulan muttered under her breath before coughing to prepare her voice box for the strain she was going to put on it. Ping's voice sounded back down the shuttle.

"I'm on my way…"

District six to the Capitol

Tinkerbell gripped Peter's arm as they waited to meet their mentor. The district six escort was gliding up and down the shuttle as if she couldn't sit still. It was all that the two teenagers could watch.

"Tink… Your nails are digging into me!" Peter squeaked, gently prising her hand from his arm. "I can't believe Giselle, she's making me so nervous. If we are to stand a chance in the Games, she's going to have to sit still every once in a while… She's done nothing but move and march up and down the train since we got on."

"Sshh Peter, she might hear you, and you don't want her to hurt her feelings…" Tinkerbell whispered, pinching her friend's arm sharply so that he would stop. "She's pretty though."

"Well I can't wait to meet our mentor. She's actually the only female mentor this year, and it's apparently her first year as one. I'm pretty sure she won the Games eight or so years ago… Zarina, what a name, right?"

A vivid red seemed to burn on Tinkerbell's face as she thought about her close friend appearing attracted to someone who was years older than they were.

"Breathe Tink… You're face doesn't look right when you do that!" Peter began to laugh raucously, which caught Tinkerbell leaving her in a fit of giggles.

Then silence.

Silence because of the small dagger that had embedded itself into the table right beside Peter's hand.

"Wow," he gasped, staring at the ornate decoration on the hilt and blade of the dagger. "That's beautiful."

"And it's mine – so hands off…" a voice snapped, retrieving the knife from the table and slipping it into a loophole of her belt. "I'm Zarina. District six's mentor and whilst I am mentoring you for this competition, you will be trained separately and kept separate throughout the next few months. This is my final decision and you will not defy me."

Tinkerbell looked at Peter with her mouth hanging open. _This can't be happening. The one person I would want by my side during the Games and I've been forced to stay away from him… I don't think I will be able to do this without him. _All she wanted to do was protest, but she couldn't bring herself to defy her mentor, one of the few allies she might have.

Zarina took a hold of the girl's wrist and pulled her away down the carriage towards the tribute's quarters. "Okay – something's been bugging me about the pair of you. He's so light on his feet and seems to float whereas you- I have this feeling that you and I have more in common than you're letting on."

"I'm, I shouldn't tell you…" Tink mumbled. "You're forcing me to stay away from my closest friend."

The mentor's eyes narrowed. "It's for your own good. I need to see that you two can cope on your own and create your own allegiances for the arena. That way you can be stronger if you join those forces together."

When she thought about it, she realised what her mentor wanted her and Peter to do – it made sense. They could still be allies, but they had to learn to fend for themselves. This made Tink trust Zarina a little more than in the time that they had met, and if it would help her, Zarina needed to know the truth.

"I'm a fairy…"

District seven to the Capitol

Nakoma frowned at Thomas across the table. Thomas decided not to return the frown and carried on eating. The taste of the freshly cooked food in his mouth would have been more enjoyable had she not been watching him so closely.

"Can you stop watching me, please?" Thomas asked politely, dropping his knife and fork.

"Children, children. Don't let the fighting commence before the Games have even started. Save it for later…" Their escort, Kida, rolled her eyes.

"For once, I actually agree with what the lady has to say there. Knock it off." Their mentor, Roark, was keen to get to the Capitol so that he could train the most promising mentor. Though this method was unconventionally, he saw no reason to invest his time in two tributes when only one victor would come out of the Games. To him, that person seemed to be Thomas.

Kida was infuriated at the mentor's methods and knew she would have to spend even more time working on Nakoma's interview skills, so that she could get the best start in the Games.

"I do not agree with your methods," she said, her eyes darting between Roark and Thomas. "Just because the boy is like you, doesn't mean you must neglect the girl."

"Well if you care so much about the girl, you mentor her…" the mentor heaved a deep sigh. "Because I couldn't care any less.

"Fine. Nakoma, come with me. I will show you what I know." Kida ushered the girl down towards the other end of the shuttle where she lay down on the sofa to one side and watched the tracks disappear on the horizon.

Nakoma perched on the edge of the sofa, feeling the hard padding fail to soften herself. "What now?"

"I may be the escort for district seven, but I can show you a thing or two…"

"What is it that you could show me?"

"How to defend yourself, and how to climb cliff faces are important for now."

"I can climb trees, surely that's relatively similar, right?" Nakoma suggested, recalling times where she and Pocahontas would climb to the highest points and look over at Panem. Look over what had become of the land over the years and Nakoma would feel good about the divide between the two groups of people.

Kida responded harshly to Nakoma's point, saying, "But if you were faced with a metal cliff face, your tree climbing skills are unlikely to come in handy as there will be nothing to hold onto or get a grip on."

Nakoma frowned a little at the escort, because the task that she was apparently going to be taught appeared almost impossible. But if Roark was putting all his eggs into Thomas' basket, then maybe Kida's training was Nakoma's only choice.

Survival was at the heart of Nakoma's mind- as it was at all the other tributes…

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = Hiya – hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm really enjoying introducing all our beloved Disney characters and I'd love to know who you're routing for to win (in the next chapter, we'll see the journey to the Capitol for Drizella and Baker, Alice and Hatter, Rapunzel and Ron, Merida and Macintosh, Esmeralda and Clopin and Amelia and Jim – so who's your favourite, who would you like to see do well, and who would you not like to do so well **


	7. To the Capitol - District 8-13

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: So the tributes are on their way to the Capitol, let's see how it goes.

Note – remember, any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy and some abilities that the characters have in the films, they more than likely have it in this story too!

**Chapter 07**

District eight to the Capitol

Drizella refused to go anywhere near her fellow tribute from district eight once they were on the shuttle. She just locked herself in her compartment and sat on the chair in the corner beside the window. Series of windmills and textile factories past her by as the shuttle powered on through to the Capitol.

Knowing that her stepsister Cinderella had betrayed her, it meant that Drizella had no escape from the games and that this was it. Though deep down, she was wishing a lifetime of hell on her stepsister. Cinderella had been sent to work in the factory whilst the two Tremaine sisters had been relaxing as mannequins and models in their mother's seamstress shop. Lady Tremaine's parlour- it was one of the only shops that seemed to target the more economically endowed residents of district eight.

She also didn't like the fact that her ally was the guy that she knew her older sister was falling for – Drizella was sure that she had seen Anastasia hovering around the bakery that the male tribute worked at. And his name – Baker, it was such a ridiculous name. Drizella sneered a little at the thought of having to spend a lot of time with him in the Capitol.

District nine to the Capitol

Alice Liddell sobbed as she saw her home district disappearing around the corner – she pressed her face up against the window so that she could see the last of district nine.

"Tea?" March Hare, her mentor, held out a tea cup and saucer that shook a little causing the tea to spill out onto the plate below.

Rather than leave the tea to spill out over the shuttle, Alice took the drink and sat down at the table opposite her. Sniffing, she managed to inhale only a mouthful of the tea before realising that it was not something that she liked at all. Her older sister by many years had tried to encourage her to try some, but Alice disliked it.

"Now, if the shuttle arrives at precisely the time that it is meant to, we shall have plenty of time to prepare yourself for the Games ahead." The ninth district's escort, Mallymkum, perched on the edge of the seats. She was much smaller than the other escorts, much smaller, but she made up for that with her firey and ferocious nature. "Because, of course, you have absolutely no training whatsoever… which means that you will most likely be in the bloodbath, unless you run. If you run, you will survive that little bit longer."

"But I don't want to die!" sniffed Alice, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I can run and I can make shelters I suppose, but I can survive…"

"Now who the who are you, the girl who knows she will succumb to the pressures the Capitol choose to force down on such a girl?" Alice's fellow tribute entered the compartment of the train and grabbed Alice's cup of tea, sprinkling a powder into the drink and swishing it about the cup.

A little bit more of the tea spilled out onto the carpet of the shuttle.

This was fifteen year old Hatter, not many people knew of his real name, only his street name, his nickname. There were rumours about him that he had been dealing with morphling, but no proof of this had ever appeared of this accusation.

"Here, try that."

"What did you do it?" Alice asked, staring down at the content of the cup.

"The answer is simple, but to find the answer, you must take the plunge and find out for your own curiosity." How Hatter spoke was so cryptic, and also incredibly annoying for Alice as the youngster had no idea what it was that he was even saying at all.

District ten to the Capitol

Rapunzel sat opposite her mother, Mother Gothel, the escort for district ten. She didn't know how she would get out of the Games now, because there wasn't a hidden sub-clause that allowed Rapunzel to be excused from the Games because her mother was the district's escort. On the young girl's lap was her friendly little chameleon that she called Pascal. Pascal had been the one person- or more, creature, that had ensured that young sixteen year old Rapunzel lived the most of her childhood, and did stuff that would have been deemed 'fun' because she wasn't going to get that hanging around Mother Gothel.

"Rapunzel, now that the Games are beginning, I will need to ask that you sing our little song as much as possible before you go into the arena… I think that we need to expect the worst, and if I am to lose you, I want to have the most youthful appearance that I have ever had whilst you are at the games."

"Mother-"

"Rapunzel, come on now… Whilst that brute of a male tribute isn't here." Mother Gothel ran her slender fingers through the girl's hair, feeling the fibrous blond strands of what she deemed to be pure gold. "Flower?"

"Yes Mother…" Rapunzel started to sing the song of the healing incantation as the shuttle shot through the countryside of the district.

District eleven to the Capitol

Merida sat on the plush seats of the shuttle and felt so uncomfortable. It was such a rigid seat that it began to dig into her back in a way that she had never felt before.

"I have a daughter about your age- she's a quiet soul… You are the opposite, but I think you'd get on well." Elastigirl told Merida, stretching her arm across the table and taking an apple from the glass bowl.

"Does she ever get reaped?" Merida rolled. "I bet she doesn't…"

"She is a strong character who would do just as well as her father did if she was reaped. Your mentor, my husband, victor of the earlier Hunger Games. He will be along shortly…" Elastigirl picked the knife up off the table and rolled it over the surface of the apple. "I've been told you have a gift for the bow and arrow, but what about your other skills?"

The fiery girl fell silent, wondering what other skills she actually had, that would help her survive in the arena.

"I am a fighter- I am stealthy… I can ride horses too, even if horses have never been included in the games before."

"It seems like you really are a fighter – I see an aggression in you that I've never seen before." Elastigirl pondered something for a moment before drawing her attention back to the apple. "Honey?" she called out to the eleventh district's mentor who was busy talking to the male tribute of the district.

Bob Parr- or Mr Incredible as he liked to be known as, was trying to determine how the young Macintosh was going to succeed in the Games, but this all seemed like a bit of a lost cause based on the incredibly limited skills and talents that the boy had.

District twelve to the Capitol

Esmeralda and Clopin were part of the group of older tributes for the year's Hunger Games tributes. They were probably the most street smart pair of the bunch, having performed shows and performances near the Hob and around the local streets. Always avoiding the patrolling peacekeeper groups.

Esmeralda even had a goat called Djali and having to set him 'free' into the district's outskirts. Djali would assist in the performances that Clopin and Esmeralda would put on.

The older girl was totally unaware of what being involved in the Games would have done for herself. It all started when she met her mentor. The mentor of the twelfth district was Phoebus – it means 'sun god' and he started out as a lowly peacekeeper that thwarted some large conspiracy and was appointed as a mentor by Lord Triton, one of the Gamemakers at the time.

The two tributes had not seen the escort, Yzma in some time, but they were keen to eat all the delights that had been served up at the table. Rather than wait for her, both Esmeralda and Cloping started to devour platefuls of food.

"You took no time in making ourselves at home then…" Their mentor stood at one end of the carriage. "No, don't stand up, I'll sit down here." He took the seat opposite the two tributes and stared directly ahead at Esmeralda. "You must be Esmeralda- may I call you Esme?"

Clopin nearly choked on his food, knowing that his friend disliked the nickname. Any nickname for that matter.

"Esmeralda…" she insisted, smiling softly. "Please."

"Hmm- right. So you must be Clopin?" Phoebus looked at the boy beside Esmeralda, though for a moment, the mentor's gaze was entirely on the girl. "Just one reaping away from being free from the games. Close, yet far away."

"Indeed, that is one way of thinking about it, but I prefer to think of the games as merely a challenge. If it was meant to happen, it was meant to happen that I would be reaped. I believe that I had the possibility to go very far in this game."

"And what makes you say that?" Phoebus asked, leaning back in his chair. "No seriously, I am eager to know."

"Well, something that you should know is that my partner in crime and I are stealthy and quick witted – we survive on the minimalistic food and belongings." Clopin was bold in his statements, but that was because he was so confident. He and Esmeralda had lived on the streets of the coal district since their early teen years.

Phoebus smiled before discussing his two tributes skillsets further.

District thirteen to the Capitol

Jim Hawkins wondered what was ahead for himself, and his fellow tribute from the thirteenth district. On one hand, he couldn't wait to be shot of his home district, because this would be his only opportunity to do so. His family wasn't rich, so it was unlikely that he would move out of district thirteen. On the other hand, the Hunger Games was an even that ended in bloodshed, and with twenty five other children going into it, there was going to be a lot of blood on Jim's hands should he win it.

His fellow tribute, Amelia, was cold and ruthless. She showed a keen eye and fast reflexes, yet she lacked stealth and subtlety – Jim thought to himself that she would not easily sneak up on anyone. Whilst she was nimble in some ways, she had this eerie presence about her that he could just sense whenever she was near.

Their escort BEN was so engrossed in the upcoming games that he had started to inadvertently spout out statistics about the youngsters. Their chances of winning. Likelihood of sponsorships. How various plans of action may end up. Outcomes if they were allies, and also if they were enemies. The percentages were not looking good for Amelia and Jim, mainly because of the careers and stronger male characters that were a part of the tribute selections for the year's Hunger Games.

Deep down, Jim's main priority in the Games would be to run away and build some kind of Solar Board creation with something he could salvage from the arena.

It began to dawn on the children that the road ahead would be difficult. From the eldest children of eighteen like Hercules and Claudia, to the youngest of twelve from the ninth district, Alice, they all had the same thought.

Die, or kill to survive.

But some children were going to secure sponsorships, and others were going to use their abilities and what they were to survive. One will win, the others, they will die in the bloodbath, or be slaughtered at the hands of a career.

It all depended on who the odds were in favour of…

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl – I have left this story for so long, I couldn't resist getting stuck in and writing another chapter, hope you enjoyed it! **


	8. The Opening Ceremony

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: So the tributes are on their way to the Capitol, let's see how it goes.

Note – remember, any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy and some abilities that the characters have in the films, they more than likely have it in this story too!

**Chapter 08**

"Good morning, hello and welcome to this year's annual Hunger Games, and boy, is it looking to get heated in here!" Genie grinned as he started the broadcast from a viewing platform that looked out at the stadium where the chariots would soon be soon coming down. "It's time for the ceremony where we get to clap eyes on our tributes for this year's games. From the look of it, the inspiration of these costumes must be something beyond my thoughts, but that's why I do the broadcasts, and the stylists do the design work."

Waiting for the chariots to take them out into the stadium, were the tributes. It had been a long and dragging wait. One of which had allowed the tributes to get to know their stylists.

Jasmine looked at her stylist Naveen and found his eyes incredibly dreamy – as did the district one escort Charlotte, but the tribute overheard that Naveen was engaged to be married to the training correspondent called Tiana.

The district one stylist was forced to fuss over the male tribute, who insisted on having his costume adjusted so that he looked his absolute best. He was wearing a silver, sparkling suit which had no sleeves. Balanced precariously on his proud head was a large headdress which had lightbulb strips running up it which stood incredibly tall and defied gravity.

Naveen was now draping these thin cloaks that had been decorated by these bright lights across Achmed's shoulders. Then the stylist turned to Jasmine and fastened the cloak tie in a neat knot before cutting off the ends.

"Show them that you mean business and everything will go smoothly," he said, helping the young tribute up onto the chariot that was leading the way.

Jasmine glanced over her shoulder at the district two boy and girl who looked a little older than she was, but they looked like majestic greek warriors in their steel and copper plated matching outfits. She also felt a pang of jealousy when she saw that the two tributes' hair and outfits were being adjusted by not one, or two, but five stylists. Envious because back at her home, Jasmine was used to having a stylist that would focus solely on her, and not having to share them with an obnoxious and annoying guy.

The third district boy and girl stood as far away from each other as they possibly could. LeFou and Claudia couldn't stand the sight of each other, they didn't even talk to one another.

Their outfits had been designed by Luminiere with the assistant of Wardrobe. Though their mentor, Cogsworth, had a disapproving look when he saw the outfits on the mannequins, but an even worse look when he saw them on the two tributes.

The outfits made them look like robots, and with Wardrobe getting carried away with the silver spray, their cheeks were now adorned with the potentially toxic paint.

"Why can't we look like the tributes from district one, two, or even four?" Claudia moaned. "Even district four looks better than us, and they are dressed like fish!"

The district four girl overheard this comment and stifled a giggle.

"What are you giggling about, Anna?" her tribute partner, Kristoff asked, nudging her with his elbow.

The pair were wearing sea blue outfits that up close, were individual little scale shaped pieces of material that had been connected together in a genius like fashion. Anna had been given a seashell necklace to compliment the strapless dress she was wearing.

"Just something I overheard… From the girl from district three – she doesn't look like she'll do too well in the Games. At least not the ones that I have watched on the screens in the past few years."

Kristoff frowned a little. "But that could all just be an act, Anna. Because what were to happen if she looks like the one everyone could defeat, and then she surprises everyone by creating some electric explosive. You can look at me with your face like that, but it could happen… There's more to a person's abilities than just looks."

"Alright smarty-pants…" Anna replied, rolling her eyes before putting on a smile as the chariot began to move, following the robotic tributes in front of them.

"Enjoy my company, fiestypants."

Watching the first four districts pull away, was Mulan. Or as she had been forced to become as a result of the reaping, Ping. Being two people in the reaping was an incredibly difficult task, but it meant that her parents and grandmother would eat and live better.

She had been forced to confide in her mentor and stylist regarding her real identity, thus crushing Mushu's heart because he knew that he would be executed if President Triton found out that he knew of Ping's real identity. And also because there was nothing he could do to safe her, other than to teach her how to survive.

The district five stylist, also known as the Cricket, was able to conceal the girl's gender with some carefully placed binding and a large dragon mask that was placed over Ping's head that went down to her chest. Seeing as the dragon was such a powerful creature, and district five was the district of power, it seemed only fitting to the pint sized stylist.

"Come on Ping, it's time to go now!" Mei squealed, fluttering the false eyelashes that the stylist had added. "I am in love with all of these dresses and outfits!"

"Uh- yeah, looks like we picked the best district…" Ping replied slowly, initially struggling to keep a low voice. She did know that she was glad to not be wearing the district six outfit which was like a brown one piece and wheeled armbands – it looked absolutely shocking, but quite amusing to watch them get up onto the chariot behind theirs.

The seventh district's tributes were covered in leaves of various colours – vibrant greens, flaming oranges and rustic browns that had been stuck to the pair's skin and even up the side of their faces. They even had hand crafted wood cuffs clamped onto their wrists.

"I feel ridiculous," Nakoma mumbled. "Pocahontas would have loved the originality of these designs and the atmosphere of everything, but this just isn't me. And you can stop grinning like that, it's so unnerving!" she added, glaring at Thomas who seemed to enjoy the attention and fuss he had received from the stylists and their mentor.

"At least I'm wearing something better than what she's wearing!" the eighth district girl shouted – probably just so that Nakoma would hear her. "Don't you think, Baker?"

Nakoma's fists shook as she looked at the patchwork costumes the ninth district had – she agreed that their outfit was much more appealing, but she wouldn't be seen dead in the third district's circuit board, robotic costume.

"How do I look, Baker?" Drizella prompted a response.

Baker didn't have a clue what to say, all he could think about was just how itchy the patchwork suit he was wearing was – so much for the textiles district. As he was looking around the prep room, he caught the eye of the girl from the ninth district, and they smiled. He had heard that she was the youngest tribute, at only twelve years old.

She was dressed in a similar fashion to the seventh district. She had a straw skirt on, paired with a vine top and gloves. Her partner had made a few alterations to his outfit to include this tatty old top hat, of which his escort and stylist were less than pleased with.

Alice couldn't quite understand her fellow tribute sometimes, especially when she would try and have a simple conversation with him. Straightening her grain skirt out, she readied herself to be paraded around the residents of the Capitol. Terror coursed across the youngster's mind as the chariot started to pull away.

"District number ten! Let's get you moving!" a head peacekeeper shouted out, standing beside an empty chariot.

The female tribute was nowhere to be seen, because the stylists were so entranced by the vast expanses of hair that they wanted to incorporate it into the parade.

Rapunzel's stylist walked the tribute towards the chariot, and it was then that everyone realised why they were being delayed.

Flynn Rider, the stylist, had created a bird cage of the girl's hair, winding it around a small structure that he had encased around the two tributes.

Rapunzel absolutely loved Flynn's creativity, and the way he had incorporated fresh flowers into the cage, but she couldn't help but notice the unhappy look that was on her mother and escort's face. Mother Gothel just didn't like a number of things.

That her daughter was a tribute. That her daughter may die in the Games. The way the stylist was changing so much about the district's style and costumes. How the young stylist looked at her daughter, it was a look that she had only seen a few times before. Mother Gothel wanted to put an abrupt stop to this blossoming relationship. Immediately.

Over the fuming escort's shoulders, the eleventh district female tribute folded her arms in disgust at the outfit she was now wearing. Merida would rather be seen dead than wearing this outfit, but she didn't have a choice.

"Unfold your arms, child!" Her stylist, Edna Mode, poked at Merida's elbow, trying to force the girl to stand up straight. "Never have I experienced such pain in the Games."

"I don't know why I have to wear this dungaree dress and straw hat like a farm girl – we may be a district of agriculture, but this is too predictable!" Merida retaliated, reaching behind her back to get at an itch.

It was at that moment that she had the dreaded sound, the sound of a single thread breaking and then splitting a little further.

Even though Edna Mode had already started to walk away, she froze with her head dipping and her shoulders hunching.

"What did you do?!" she squeaked, darting back towards the tributes and staring aghast at the split that had destroyed the back of the tribute's outfit which was barely hanging together. "No! There is no time for this to be fixed! Not even all the stylists in Panem could fixed this destruction."

"It's not my fault!" Merida growled, a little unaware of just how exposed her back from, fortunately her modesty was still a little in tact.

Before Edna had time to even grab a needle and thread, Merida and Macintosh were forced up onto the chariot that was already pulling out after the bird cage tributes of the previous district.

That just left two more districts to be paraded in front of the President Triton and the Gamemakers.

Esmeralda and Clopin. Jim and Amelia.

Emperor Kuzco had chosen to give Esmeralda ad Clopin a simple antique black outfit and a halo made out of crystalised coal. The crystalised coal took years to form, and to shape it like a ring was near on impossible, but manageable… With practice.

For the parade, Clopin and Esmeralda decided to try something a little bit different. They planned to make an impression on the President and the Gamemakers.

To perform- just like they were supposed to, but not in the way they were expected to.

As the chariot pulled out, they exchanged a cheerful look. A look that told the other that they were ready for what they were about to do.

At the halfway mark, after waving for only so long, Esmeralda took Clopin's hand and climbed up onto his shoulders. She stood tall and proud, even as the chariot rocked. The pair had practiced for this to happen, and had practiced in worse conditions, so they were confident.

The cheering grew louder as the two tributes changed their acrobatic positions, much to the audience's delight, even if the idea hadn't been run by Yzma and BEN.

Unlike the acrobatic duo, the linked up neutrinos behind them that were Amelia and Jim of district thirteen were standing still. Apart from Jim's occasional smile and wave to certain members of the crowd.

The games were getting heated up, and the betting odds were being decided, but it's only a matter of time before Tiana would start the tribute's training.

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = Okay, so it wasn't the best chapter in the world, but I had a lot of fun just playing about with the characters and the chariot parade to start the games, hope you're enjoying it, but who are you routing for?**


	9. Introduction to the training centre

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney or Hunger Games characters and plot

A/N: So the chariots had passed through in the next stage of the Games and the tributes have been paraded about in front of the Capitol – now we shall see what Tiana has to offer for the tributes training.

Note – remember, any creature that is an unusual object or animal, or even troll, has been made into a human, apart from Tinkerbell – she's still a fairy and some abilities that the characters have in the films, they more than likely have it in this story too!

**Chapter 09**

Tiana stood in the centre of all the tributes, wondering what each of the tribute's strengths would be. She began to address all of the individual tributes, informing them all about the various training stations.

"Welcome to the Training Center – here, there are several training stations where you will be able to learn to perfect survival skills that you may require in order to survive. On each of the stations is an expert and assistants who can help to assist or spar with. You are forbidden to fight each other in the training room – leave that for the arena. For now, you should take advantage of finding your strengths and building on your weaknesses, because as you are no doubt aware, you are going to have a private session with the Gamemakers. That means that Triton will be watching you along with his team of Gamemakers and aids, so make your mark in order to receive the best score. Make yourself the most well rounded candidate that you can be…" Tiana smiled with her eyes scanning amongst all the tributes. "There can only be one winner and that will all depend on how well the twenty six behave in the next four days. Some of you may die from combat, but remember, there are other ways that you can and will, die."

It was clear to some of the tributes that they should not neglect the training stations that may have been deemed as boring – the ones that would be important for their survival.

"Now, remember that you have your interview with Genie this evening and you should be ready for the interviews. Make the most of this morning. Let's disperse… Let's not all crowd around one station."

Hercules was first to move and pulled Achmed over to the weight-lifting station as if to see what his fellow Career's strength was like. But if we are being honest, it was clear that Hercules was over five times stronger than Achmed was.

"Come on, we can train together- ten reps of three sets… That ought to be manageable for you, right?" Hercules raised one thick eyebrow at Achmed. As he looked at the district one tribute, Hercules noticed how Achmed had taken to the treatments that the Capitol had to offer – from eyebrow plucking, all the way through to manicured nails. "You really take pride in your appearance, don't you?"

"Well you've got to make the most of what is available to you. I mean, you could do with a few little changes here and there. Definitely a new hairdo- because this curled up do you're sporting just isn't doing you justice…" Achmed sniped back at Hercules. "Meg might like it better shorter."

"Meg- what's Meg got to do with all this?" Hercules asked, lifting up a large weight and doing short and quick bicep curls. "Let's get on with training, shall we? You look like you could do with a few extra pounds of muscle…" Over Achmed's shoulder, Hercules was intrigued by the district three girl – Claudia, who was creating a fire using an electrical current.

Claudia was a girl from the electronics' district and knew a few techniques from her father that he thought might come in handy. She was trying to perfect it with the minimal amount of equipment, but whenever she tried, she singed her fingertips. This only made the female careers snigger and laugh at her foolish actions.

"You know, it's probably not a good idea for you to look so stupid at such a simple task as making a fire…" Fourteen year old LeFou gave a filthy look to the older girl. "You're one of the weakest tributes in this place."

There was a scream from over on the ropes course. All the assistants and Tiana rushed over to see the district five girl sitting on the crash mats underneath the ropes clutching her wrist.

"No, it's hurts!" she squealed. "I can't move it. OW!"

The other district five tribute called Ping rushed to her side. "Mei – what happened?"

"A nail cracked and I was surprised – I let go. I think I broke it or something- I don't think I can compete…"

Ping's head shook slowly. "I don't think it works that way I'm afraid Mei…"

"Is she alright?" Esmeralda asked, hovering beside Ping. "It looked like a nasty fall from what I saw." Deep down, the seventeen year old knew that Mei had at least fractured her wrist and was going to need a cast for it, but didn't want to give too much information away. When neither Ping or Mei could give her an answer, she turned her attention back onto the gauntlets. Only Mei was escorted out of the training room with an assistant and peacekeeper on either side of her.

Leaping agilely from each of the podiums, she was able to watch the other tributes who were at the station, of which include Ron Stabbington and Peter Pan. As Esmeralda watched Peter, she swore she could see him almost gliding about from block to block – perhaps even changing in direction…

"Weird…" she mumbled.

Whilst Esmeralda was taking the observational approach to analysing her fellow tributes, the others were keen on befriending everyone, or isolating themselves from everyone.

Merida instinctively went for the accuracy stations, of which she was specifically told to avoid by her mentor, Bob Parr, Mr Incredible, he wanted her to try strengthen her hand to hand combat. It was potentially her weakest point.

"Yes!" she shouted once she completely smashed the course of targets, gaining the attention of the district one and two tributes who started to whisper amongst themselves, but it was only Jasmine who had a positive smile on her face. When Merida realised that they were watching her closely, she immediately turned her attention onto the snare setting station that the male tribute of her own district was working.

"You're making a scene there…" Macintosh remarked, not looking up from the vine loop that he was putting a knot into.

"Well I'm supposed to make the other tributes scared of me and make me feel like a threat, so I just did. I can't help it if the Parrs think it's the wrong strategy, but if I'm going to die, I'm going to go down fighting." Merida glowered at the other boy and waited for a response, but there was none.

Observing from the top of the tree climbing station, was Nakoma. She could tell which tributes would or could die in the bloodbath just from watching them at this stage, but that could all change if they paid attention to what Tiana had told them to do.

Like the youngest tribute from the ninth district, Alice, was doing as she worked on the camouflage station. Even though she was worried about being the youngest tribute, and that the other tributes looked much bigger than her. As she used a sticky sap to coat her arm, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Trying to ignore it, Alice placed leaves over her arm, letting the sap hold the leaves. Lifting her hand up in front of her face, she inspected the work, and that's when she saw her watcher.

It was the boy from the thirteenth district – Jim. Trying not to be rude, Alice smiled and shyly waved her head at him. Caught off guard, Jim suddenly waved back with a surprised look on his face.

Struggling to find a station to get involved with was Drizella Tremaine who was still sulking that Cinderella didn't volunteer as her stepmother Lady Tremaine had forced her to do. Not even Baker could encourage her to do anything – which was expected. Anna was keen to try and help the other girl out of her shell, but Kristoff suspected that it wasn't worth it.

"She's not worth befriending – she's not a very strong candidate," Kristoff said bluntly, smiling gently across the equipment that had been supplied at the hammock making station. "We should be able to find a stronger candidate – I think we stand a good chance at befriending the careers from district one and two… But if we're going to be allies, then we might have to disband our alliance by the time there are only ten tributes or something, because if we carried it all the way through, then we would have to kill each other in the end. Sorry being all morbid, but it's something we should talk about."

"Okay, but that's only if I agree to this alliance…" Anna laughed softly. "I'm going to try befriend some of the other tributes. Maybe not her though-" Anna subtly indicated the thirteenth district tribute Amelia who was indulging in some hand to hand combat and ended up flooring the peacekeeper who was sparring with her. "But the girl by the fishing pond- she's special…" Anna looked at the female tribute of district ten. "I think she's called Rapunzel, I'm going to go and see if I can help her out – what with us being from the fishing district." Anna cautiously walked over to Rapunzel and was in awe at the humungous plait of hair that hovered just above the floor. "Is that not really heavy on your head?"

Rapunzel looked in Anna's direction. "Oh, I've never thought about it like that… It's never been cut, so the more it grows, the more I get used to it." She dropped the spear down beside the small pond that had a few fish in it. "I'm useless at this."

"Want me to show you a few techniques?" Anna asked, picking up a spear – she preferred to use a spear over a make shift fishing rod.

"Really? I would love that… Not that I have much to offer you, apart from maybe one thing, but… Fishing would be a good place to start learning." Rapunzel squatted down and held her knees. "My mother only helped me with weapons training – not much on hunting and survival…"

Unlike the blossoming friendship of Rapunzel and Anna, Thomas and Clopin were competing with one another at the stations for edible insects and knives. Their fingers darted about the surface of the electronic boards with such speed that no one could be quicker.

Tinkerbell was nearby, throwing some knives at the targets that surrounded her. She was keen on improving her technique and went as far as to seek assistance from Tiana herself. Part of Tinkerbell had a healthy obsession with knives, because even though they were small, they could do so much damage both up close and from a distance. Just as she was about to start throwing another knife, there was an agonising scream. It was the boy from district nine, called Hatter – or at least that's apparently what everyone knew him as.

"No! Give it back to me!" he screamed, fighting out against the peacekeepers who were now piling on him. "I need it! It's mine – give it back to whom so it belongs!"

The knife that Tinkerbell threw after the scream was now embedded into the arm of the target body, hanging at an awkward angle. Her head snapped around to see what the commotion was all about. In the hand of one of the peacekeepers, Tinkerbell could easily make out through her keen detailed eyesight, a vial and syringe of morphine.

Her mind raced with thoughts about what was going to happen, because she had never heard of a fifteen year old boy being on morphine whilst he was training and preparing for the Games… but she too had a secret that was hidden underneath everything. Not only did she have fairy wings that had been secured down by her stylist, Tigerlily, but she was a living and breathing fairy who was living in secret in district six with Peter and his Lost Boys.

**Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = I love meshing all the different Disney characters together, it's so much fun! Hope you're enjoying the chapter! In the next chapter, we'll have a snippet from each tribute's interview with Genie!**


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